


The Ballarat Babysitters Club

by Ellie5192



Category: The Doctor Blake Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 13:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12233685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie5192/pseuds/Ellie5192
Summary: Amelia Jean Beazley needs looking after for a couple of weeks, and Grandma Jean and Grandpa Lucien are here to lend a hand. Hijinks and shenanigans ensue, because what better way to get to know our Ballarat family than through the eyes of a six-month-old. Co-written with disturbingclarity, poormanstinafey and mgreathouse, my enablers. Multi-chapter, Gen, Lucien/Jean EST.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As Lindsay said, this may well be the first ever crowd-sourced fanfic. This started as a long-winded twitter rant about Grandparent!Blakes, and lead to a multi-chapter family fic in which Amelia Jean Beazley acts as facilitator to cute moments between our favourite people. So first I need to thank my collaborators: disturbingclarity, poormanstinafey and mgreathouse, who entertain my ramblings and co-wrote most of these little story points with me. Thanks guys! This one’s for you! And second, quick shoutout to Lindsay for the title.
> 
> There are a few chapters to come, and more in the works, so let me know what you think and leave me and the girls some love. Enjoy!

**_The Ballarat Babysitters Club_ **

“We’re seeing specialists in Melbourne. We’ll be there for a couple of weeks while they run tests and monitor her condition, and I was wondering if-”

“Say no more” said Jean on the phone, cutting off Christopher mid-explanation. “I completely understand.”

She didn’t really, because she had thankfully dodged the baby blues after her two boys. But Jean knew Ruby was still not coping even six months later, to the point of barely being able to get out of bed. The doctors in Adelaide had suggested the usual – electroshock therapy and ward admittance until she improved. Horrified, Christopher had sought help back in Melbourne, from a doctor he heard about through military friends who specialised in shell shock and related nervous conditions. He thought maybe, with some proper psychiatric care, she might not need the more aggressive therapies.

“You’ll stop here first” said Jean, no question in her tone. “Have a hot meal and good sleep, then we’ll get little Amelia set up and you’ll leave her here with us. We’re more than equipped to take care of her, and you need to focus on getting Ruby well. Melbourne is only an hour and a half away” – it was a little more than that to get to the hospital in Carlton, but not much more – “so any time you need to see her you just say the word and we can arrange for you to see her”

She heard him sigh. It was a good plan, but he wasn’t completely sold.

“Mum… I really don’t like foisting her on you-”

“What foisting? I’m offering. And I insist”

Down the phone line, Christopher’s silence was answer enough. Jean let herself have the moment of self-satisfaction.

“We are… more than grateful. Really”

Part of her felt guilty. After all, she left Adelaide such in a rush for Matthew and never returned, and although Ruby had seemed well enough at the time perhaps she hadn’t been. If this was a form of penance as well as an easy solution, well… so be it.

“It is our pleasure. You just let me know what day to expect you”

And that, as they say, was that.

As soon as she hung up the phone, Jean took a deep breath and steeled herself for the next conversation, walking briskly from the kitchen phone around into the hallway, and then beyond to Lucien’s consult room.

He was sitting at his desk filling in patient paperwork. He looked up when she knocked on the doorway, announcing her presence.

“Lucien. I’m afraid I’ve gone and made a decision without you” she said.

He stilled his hand from its poised writing position, his eyebrows going up a fraction. “Oh?”

He didn’t seem especially worried. She wouldn’t have done anything rash, and he trusted her explicitly.

“Ruby is still not well.” she started, walking into the room and, eventually, around the desk to stand next to him. “Christopher is bringing her to Melbourne to see the specialists there”

Lucien frowned in sympathy. “Oh that is no good, I’m sorry to hear it”

“Yes. Well. We’ll see they go” said Jean, fidgeting. “Only-”

“What are they doing with little Amelia?” he asked. The thought occurred to him suddenly and interrupted whatever she was about to say. He knew only too well how chaotic the Melbourne hospitals could be, and if extensive testing was to be done it could be a long and tedious process for the couple, let alone with a baby in tow. 

“That’s… the decision I need to speak to you about”

Her sheepishness and the look on her face gave her away, and in a moment the penny dropped.

“Ah” he said, his head rising in realisation. “I see”

“I offered to take her here” she confirmed. “Now, of course, you won’t be expected to-”

“Jean, say no more” he said, holding up his hand with a soft smile. “It will be a delight to play host to your granddaughter” he finished. He looked so genuinely happy about it she immediately relaxed.

“Thank you. She can sleep in my room” she hastened to add, dispelling any fears he may have about doing the hard yards of baby caring. But he didn’t seem to be listening, his gaze looking around his office with a small frown.

“Thank goodness the door handles to my consulting rooms are so high up, I suppose” he muttered almost to himself.

Jean grinned. “She’s only six months old, Lucien, she’s barely even crawling yet”

“Still” he said, and she got the impression he was already mentally tallying the ways to make the house baby-safe. “Can’t be too cautious”

She leaned down and kissed him then, lightly but with feeling. “Thank you” she said, and he only smiled in return.

It was going to be an interesting few weeks, he was sure, but part of him was really looking forward to it.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a quick update to get everyone in the swing of the story.

Christopher was knocked for six when he got out of the car. His mother stood on the threshold of the front door, under the veranda, and just behind her in the doorway was her fiancé Lucien Blake, hands in his pockets. Christopher couldn’t tell whose smile was wider. It was… not the scene he expected from two people who would soon take on the rather imposing responsibility of a baby.

“I’m so glad to see you” said Jean, pulling Christopher into an embrace when he walked towards her, a small overnight suitcase in hand. He returned her hug, not nearly as uncomfortable as he’d been the last time he was in Ballarat. Ruby stepped in behind him and did the same, as Christopher turned to Lucien and took the man’s hand.

“Christopher” he said, a wide and warm smile on his face.

“Lucien” he replied. “I can’t thank you enough-”

“Nonsense, think nothing of it”

Christopher nodded, and was once again taken aback by the effervescent and genuinely happy demeanour of the man. He seemed so enthusiastic to be caring for an infant so last minute; certainly a different creature to Christopher’s father. He’d been a good man, but quiet and serious, the kind of man who at Lucien’s age would have been content to read his paper and smoke a pipe and sit in relative silence. Christopher vividly remembered being told to go outside as a child every time there was the hint of ruckus. Christopher Senior would not have been so glad to have a baby dumped on his doorstep. Christopher stepped inside after Lucien’s outstretched hand, and watched from just inside the door at the rest of the greetings.

“Ruby” said Lucien, greeting the young woman as she moved forward in the welcoming procession. “How are you, my dear?”

“Hello Doctor” she said, quite proper. They had met, of course, in Adelaide, but they weren’t yet family and still held an air of polite formality. She couldn’t let her manners slip for even a moment. She also didn’t answer the question, perhaps afraid to be making such a fuss in front of Jean, though she looked frighteningly pale and drawn. Lucien let it be, not wanting to push when she would soon be in the care of specialists.

“And Miss Amelia Jean” added Lucien, bowing his head a little to smile at the baby in Ruby’s arms. She had chubby cheeks and vivid blue eyes – the kind that cherubs were modelled after, he thought. There was a slight tint of red in her cheeks, and Lucien thought she might be starting to teethe, but didn’t enquire. He flicked his finger gently over one cheek, and the baby immediately mimicked his cheesy grin, slapping herself on the leg with one hand. “Please, come in”

They all proceeded inside behind Christopher. He remembered the way well enough, leaving his bag by the staircase for the one night they would spend. He tried not to think too hard on the domesticity of the scene as they all made themselves comfortable in the living room before dinner was started.

Lucien prepared drinks for them all, and there was already a slow record playing softly from the player in the corner, and it was all so positively cosy that Christopher relaxed for the first time in hours. Jean took Amelia so Ruby could rest, and they all settled around the couches, comfortably exchanging surface pleasantries and having a drink together, catching up since the last time they’d seen each other in Adelaide.

From his place in one of the armchairs, Lucien produced a tweed country flat cap from behind his back, and placed it on the baby’s head where she sat in Jean’s lap – an ugly old thing he picked up and sent back to his father in his early days in Edinburgh. He’d found it gathering dust in an old box and kept it for reasons he couldn’t describe. Probably he was just glad his father had kept it so long in the first place. Now it just looked comical, far too big on Amelia’s head as she moved to look at it and caused it to fall over her eyes. They all laughed at her, and Lucien adjusted it back on top of her head as Jean held her steady on her lap.

“Fetching” he said, tongue firmly in cheek.

Christopher watched the moment with curiosity – Lucien interacting with Amelia and his mother watching Lucien with a gentle expression – and he felt rather pleased that he could call these people family. It had been a long time since Ballarat felt like home, but sitting in the living room with everybody made it possible to feel affection for the place. He’d noticed, on first meeting the man, that Lucien was fond of his mother; it had been confirmed when he’d shown up in Adelaide seemingly without explanation. Now that they were engaged he was pleased – for his mother’s happiness and for the fact that they were making it official.

Christopher tried not to stack him up against his own father. The memories were faded, but the impression of the man remained, and he jutted up against Christopher’s recollections every time he looked at Blake. There were points of similarities, certainly, but their differences were far more pronounced. Christopher Senior had been towering and almost lanky, all lean muscles and pointed features. He’d been quiet and brooding; a simple man living a simple life and happy to do so. There wasn’t a lot of mystery about him, and prior to going off and dying in war, he’d been the kind of man to never need a passport, or even want to travel on an aeroplane at all.

Lucien Blake was… not that. He and Blake shared an understanding of one another because of their military backgrounds, but Christopher knew than no matter how clever he thought himself, Blake could run circles around him. There was more there – depth, perhaps even darkness – than was readily apparent in his easy smile towards Amelia. He had left Ballarat as a child and seen the world. His settling back in town now wasn’t because he was born to the quiet life, but because he longed for it after so long away and adrift. Not knowing much about the man, Christopher knew at least that much.

In some ways, it made it easier to accept Blake’s future role in their lives; he was here because he firmly wanted to be, not because he had to be, and that somehow made a difference. Still, Christopher found himself intrigued by his mother’s love for him. She’d been a country woman her whole life, making do as well as she could for a woman who had married as a teen and been widowed young. She hadn’t stepped too far out of the confines this life dealt to her, but Christopher always got the impression she would have gladly seen more of the world if the opportunity presented. Perhaps, he reasoned, through Lucien Blake, she was. He smiled a little at the thought.

Amelia giggled again when Lucien played a quick peek-a-boo with her and the cap, and they all laughed at his antics. Christopher wondered, then, if this knack with her came from a physician’s usual bedside manner, or if he was just a natural with babies. But he didn’t know the man well enough to ask. Soon the usual chatter continued, and they all dutifully avoided the topic of Ruby’s treatment and how she’d been. Hopefully she would soon be well, and in the meantime Amelia was in the safest hands. And judging by the way the doctor kept ignoring their conversation to engage with the baby, Christopher thought perhaps his mother wouldn’t be too heavily burdened after a


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the great feedback on the last chapter guys! In honour of the latest episode, here’s another. Enjoy.

 

_~0~_

“There’s no need to have her in the room with you. She does sleep well in her own room these days, thankfully”

Ruby couldn’t stop giving directives from her place on the couch, and Jean tried not to take it personally. On top of being highly strung, this was also the first time she’d left her baby in the care of others for any serious length of time, so Jean was inclined to give her leeway. Not to mention her sickness. It was a recipe for paranoia. 

Even so, Jean noted that the spare room was just next to hers in the upstairs corridor, and that if she left the door open she’d hear Amelia crying in the night. Ruby had done well at keeping the night time routine Jean had set for her, and Amelia was sleeping through, so hopefully it wouldn’t be needed, but even so, her door would be staying open despite Charlie’s presence and the draft it caused. There was no way she would take any chances with a baby in the house.

Christopher made no comment about the fact his mother still slept upstairs in her own room. He honestly didn’t want to know more than that. But it did make him proud that these two were obviously taking it slow and doing things the right way, in the proper order. He was surprised at his own protectiveness, but this was his mum, and he only wanted her to be happy, and he respected Lucien Blake more for it no matter whose decision it was.

“Sweetheart” he coaxed, placing a gentle hand on Ruby’s lap as he sat next to her on the couch. “This is the safest place she could be. Mum’s here, there’s a doctor, and even a coppa in the house too. She’ll be fine”

Ruby didn’t seem mollified but she did quieten after that. Jean turned back to preparing dinner, and tried not to smart that Ruby didn’t even offer to help. She reminded herself again that Ruby was unwell, and put the uncharitable thoughts from her mind as best she could as she started chopping veggies for a simple chicken soup.

“Would you mind terribly if I went and had a lie down before dinner?” asked Ruby.

Christopher was already helping her up off the couch, keeping a close eye on the baby on the floor.

“Of course not” replied Lucien kindly. “You’ve had such a long drive, please, feel free to rest as long as you need. We’ll keep little Amelia occupied for you”

He escorted the two as far at the living room door, then gave Christopher a cursory nod and turned back around.

Jean was not surprised when she heard his footstep approaching a moment later. She looked up and saw him walking back towards her with Amelia perched in one of his arms, the other hand holding her chubby little one. All afternoon Amelia had been gravitating to him, crawling along the floor and then pulling at his pant legs. If she was in his arms she was transfixed by his face – already he’d been poked in the eye by a tiny fingernail as she grasped at him. Ruby had apologised, Christopher had given a guarded smile, and Jean had felt her heart soar when Lucien’s only reaction was to blink away the scratch, take Amelia’s hand, and run exaggerated little kisses long her fingertips as though to eat them. He had smiled widely at the baby’s giggles, oblivious to the people watching.

Now he approached her, staying a foot away to ensure Amelia was nowhere near the knife.

“Can we be of any assistance?”

Jean looked up and smiled at him.

“Perhaps you’d like to fill the kettle for me and pop it on for a nice cup of tea” she replied. Her smile grew wider when Lucien gave a mocking salute and then _zhoomed_ across the kitchen floor with a bounce, just to make Amelia laugh again. He got to filling the electric kettle and then turned it on, and they stood in relative silence until he had prepared their two cups of tea.

“Thank you” she said when he placed hers on the kitchen table in front of her chopping board.

“You’re very welcome” he replied lowly. He leaned in and kissed her cheek for good measure, and she fought a blush, the way she did every time he showed her a small and everyday moment of affection. It came so easy to him to do it, and she cherished it.

“Ruby seems quite unwell” she said, keeping her voice measured low so it wouldn’t carry upstairs at all.

“Quite” he said back, nodding, taking a seat. “Though I must say, well done to Christopher for not subjecting her to unnecessary treatments until he’s investigated further. Many people wouldn’t have done the same”

“The doctors in Melbourne may still decide electroshock therapy is the best course” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Perhaps. But at least they will have tried”

Jean shuddered at the thought. “It still sounds like such a barbaric way to fix someone”

He only hummed in response. It seemed like he was a world away, and then in a moment his attention was firmly fixed back on Amelia, and Jean finished up her chopping and preparing just as the pot on the stove started boiling. She didn’t press him for more speculation, instead content to get the food ready in time for an early dinner.

Jean watched Lucien from her place at the stove, mixing their soup so it wouldn’t stick to the bottom of the pot. He was sitting at the head of the table, Amelia in front of him – he was holding her under the arms as she stood on the tabletop, periodically bending her knees to bounce up and down like a spring. The two of them were having a grand old time.

A smile came over Jean, partly endeared but also immensely sad for him; he was so easy with her, a real natural, and darker thoughts came forth unbidden from her mind. He bounced Amelia and made faces and small silly sounds like it was nothing, when so many other men left that kind of interaction to mothers; he blurted raspberries on her cheeks every so often just to make her giggle, which she did. Jean could imagine him then, younger and free of his burdens, holding his only child in much the same way, unaware of the heartache that would soon follow. She imagined him bouncing her around, her eyes a different shade but same shape as his, her little giggles echoing around a happier time. Jean wondered, not for the first time, what their lives might have looked like if even one small thing had been different, and the thought made her sad enough to turn back to the stove to gather herself together.

No point dwelling now, she thought, as she stirred the pot and heard another peel of giggles ring out, followed by a quieter, deeper chuckle. They’d somehow landed here, together, and now her soon-to-be-husband was laying her granddaughter back on the table in order to tickle the bottom of her feet.

“I was going to stew those apples on the table” she said, jerking her head a little towards the apples in the fruit bowl that were a day or two past eating. “That way we’ll have something solid for Amelia to snack on”

“That sounds wonderful” he said, smiling at her. “I can pick up some more fruit tomorrow if you like”

“Oh, I can do that-”

“No, I insist, I’ll have the car and I much prefer that than you walking around town with that bulky stroller”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You have patients in the afterno-”

“Doesn’t matter”

She turned fully away from the stove then, wooden spoon poised in the air like she might smack him with it for being naughty. “You are so stubborn” she said, shaking her head, frowning at him.

His only response was to slowly raise his eyebrows at her. She huffed, point proven, and stirred the pot again to make sure nothing was sticking.

“Oh, very well” she said. “How about we come with you into town then? You’re only going to be at the hospital in the morning, we can come with you, spend a lovely time down the street, and then you can come and get us once you’re done?”

He gave her a critical eye, but it did seem like a fair compromise. And if needs be, should he be caught up, Jean could bring Amelia back home early and explain to his patients then. He looked at the baby, sucking quite happily on the hem of her pinafore, and smiled.

“Oh, very well” he said. He gave her a look like he wasn’t happy with it, but the grin hiding in his expression and the way she looked triumphantly happy gave away that they were both pleased. With a smirk he turned back to the baby in an exaggerated way.

“You will soon learn, young Amelia, that Grandma Jean is always right”

Said grandmother dutifully ignored him, except for one indignant, high-pitched huff.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback, it’s been great to get your love for this story!  
> Please note the canon may tweak a little as new episodes air, hence Matthew is also a resident of the house now in the downstairs bedroom (wherever that may be). Let’s pretend it’s always been that way.

 

_~0~_

Alice looked, quite frankly, alarmed.

“Lucien”, she started, looking at the knitted quilt on the floor, littered with blocks, a rattle, and a well-loved copy of Blinky Bill. “There’s a baby in your living room”

He poked his head out of the kitchen, looking at Alice standing awkwardly in front of the couch she was about to take a seat on. She was motionless, almost oblivious to the baby gurgling happily on the floor except for the fearful gaze she was giving it from the corner of her eye.

“Yes” he drawled. “She hasn’t crawled away has she? She’s been getting very confident in herself the past couple of days”

Alice looked at him, then back to the baby, then back to him. “No, she’s not crawling away”

She looked back at the baby now like it had two heads, the thought of it being mobile even worse. “But… why is it here?”

He tried not to let his amusement show as he walked back into the living room, a warmed bottle of formula milk in hand. Amelia was starting to eat soft solids – bites of pureed apple or a chunk of soggy Weetbix when the rest of them had their meals – but her mainstay was still a warm bottle every few hours. Lucien had been woefully out of practice with the whole process, but Jean had set him right quickly, and he was very hands-on when possible. Given said woman was down at the store this afternoon, he was tasked with solo babysitting duties for a couple of hours, requesting Alice meet him at home to discuss their latest case.

He sat on the couch and gestured Alice to do the same next to him. She did, watching warily as he reached forward and picked up Amelia, setting her on his lap, facing her.

“This is Amelia” he said, holding the baby’s hand, making it gently wave in her direction. “Jean’s granddaughter. Amelia, this is Aunty Alice”

Alice’s eyes – if it was possible – went even wider at the introduction, but Lucien was ignoring her, getting the baby settled in his arms with the bottle. They settled into a stance that left him with one free hand, and Alice was transfixed. She knew Lucien was a complex man, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine they would sit in his living room discussing blood test results over the head of a feeding infant. It was all too surreal.

“I don’t understand” she said, shaking her head a little, finally giving up on figuring this out.

“Jean’s son and daughter-in-law are in Melbourne, attending some appointments” he said, looking at Alice as she studied the baby. “Jean and I offered to take care of Millie in the meantime”

Alice was very still, and then she faintly smiled, the small expression barely visible and obviously unconscious. “Millie” she mimicked, meeting his eye with mirth. “That’s sweet”

Amelia’s leg kicked out in the space between them and Alice reached out a single finger and tapped her foot, scratching her nail very lightly over her bare toes. Amelia’s leg kicked again twice, ticklish and pleased all at once. Alice didn’t make any particular expression, though Lucien got the impression she was waiting for something terrible to happen, or for Amelia to start squalling, or for strange smells to start emanating. He watched with patient curiosity, wondering for the first time if Alice had ever held a baby, and entertained himself at the thought of her potential reaction if he offered her a hold of Amelia.

“I’ve never taken to babies” she said, still staring.

“Oh?”

“There are… bodily fluids everywhere”

He swallowed a laugh, not wanted to offend her with how much she was amusing him. It was difficult, but he managed it, and could only silently nod at her as she met his eye. She still had the look of a deer caught in headlights, which he found quite endearing, and a laugh still threatened to break free which he fought with all his might.

“They’re actually wonderful, once you get used to them” he said, giving Amelia a quick look full of love and wonder. Alice didn’t know his whole story, but she knew enough – knew he’d lost the chance to be a father to his child a long time ago. She was glad for him, to get to play Grandpa now. He was clearly besotted, and in her inexpert opinion he was rather good at it.

She hummed at him, an uncommitted sound, like she wasn’t quite convinced but willing to let him try.

“You never wanted your own?” he asked. He kept his tone light, knowing such questions could be minefields, but he trusted that he and Alice were good enough friends that he could ask her. A shadow came over her face – just a little bit, just enough for him to register there was a wound there – but it passed before he could work it out.

It occurred to him that he didn’t know very much about his friend beyond the surface. Something told him she liked it that way; that she played her cards close to the chest very deliberately, and only let people see what she wanted. The horrible business of Munro airing her dirty laundry and the contemporaneous murder investigation had given him more information than he – or she – was comfortable knowing, but Alice rarely volunteered it herself. Had she wanted to marry and have a family he was sure she could have, but he’d never got the inkling she was that way inclined. Lucien honestly couldn’t say which answer he was expecting from her, only that every possible answer would have surprised him to some degree; Alice was always full of surprises.

“No, never actually” she replied. She straightened her spine in a confident way. Of all paths, motherhood was one she had honestly never aspired to; marriage had seemed a daunting enough prospect to grapple, without a family to follow. And she hadn’t experienced a very good model in her own childhood, so the whole idea seemed rather foreign. She’d always been solely focussed on her career, and prided herself on being good at it, so children had never felt like something she missed out on.

Alice broke her introspective trance quickly, shaking herself back to reality, and picked up the file left abandoned on her lap.

“So”, she started. “Blood results”

“Yes” said Lucien, trying to hide his amusement as they got back to business. He quickly checked the level in the baby’s bottle – that she wasn’t sucking on bubbles – before giving Alice his full attention. She still looked wary, which he supposed was an improvement on outright ignoring Amelia.

It didn’t take long to go through the results, and the potential hypotheses for their case, and Alice studiously avoided the baby for the rest of the afternoon. When Jean arrived back they had a pot of tea, and by the time they had got talking it was close to dinner and Alice was invited to stay for that too. She even helped Jean with the chopping, quoting her excellent knife skills, even if everything else was lacking.

What had started as a quick stop in for work turned into half a day at the Blake household, and honestly Alice rather liked their exuberant company. She always had. By the time Charlie and Matthew came home from work, dinner was nearly served, and she ended up seated next to Matthew on one side of the table, with Lucien at the head, and Charlie and Jean on the other side. It was positively domestic; a far cry from the family scenes she remembered from her childhood, which suited her just fine.

Amelia was placed on Jean’s lap, for want of a proper highchair, and Jean and Lucien took turns trying her on all manner of soft foods – a bit of mash with gravy, a soft pea, even a well-boiled piece of carrot – while the adults talked through hypotheticals of the case, all pretence of secrecy or decorum long out the window. Half of the food ended up down Amelia’s front, but Jean paid her no mind, content to eat one-handed like a practiced pro while she juggled a squirming baby with the other and kept up with the conversation.

Yet still, Alice felt no twinge of jealousy or longing. She admired Jean’s capacity, and thought it charming that the baby had been accepted into the fold so easily. But watching her chubby face experimentally roll food around her mouth, and seeing half of it spit out, the thought of childrearing seemed rather too much like hard work. She would look on fondly from afar, she would enjoy watching her dear friends interact with one another with such ease and love, and she would count herself grateful that she had been accepted as one of their own without a second thought. That was more than enough for her.

At one point she caught Matthew’s eye, the two of them sharing amusement at something Charlie said, and Alice felt a deep kinship over being able to do such a thing; to share a smile with someone she cared about over a warm dinner table. It left her feeling… safe. Warmth settled over her, and she privately noted it down in her mind, treasuring this moment for later.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of this week’s episode, have another. Your feedback has been fantastic, thank you. Enjoy!

_~0~_

It was late, and they were all clad in pyjamas getting ready for bed, when Amelia started squirming in Jean’s arms enough that she eventually handed her over to Lucien. It had become her sure-fire way to calm the baby down, even if only for a moment, and tonight it worked again like a treat.

“I don’t know why she’s fussing so much today” said Jean.

“Teething, perhaps?” asked Lucien, sticking his finger in her mouth to feel her gums. (Luckily, Jean thought, his hands were clean and free of scientific experiments, or she may have some explaining to do with Christopher). The gums felt firm, but still too soon to tell if a tooth was trying to break.

“Maybe” she answered. “I put a damp face washer in the fridge for her to suck on tomorrow, so we’ll see if that settles her down”

“I’ve got her tonight” said Lucien lowly, rubbing the baby’s back when she started squirming in his arms. “You go to bed”

“No, Lucien, that’s not-”

“Jean, we’ll be fine” he said, meeting her eyes with meaning. “I’ll put her to bed shortly. I can’t sleep myself just yet, so she can keep me company”

He rubbed Jean’s arm with one hand as he held the baby in the other. She’d been coping wonderfully, but even so it had been over twenty five years since she’d been a parent to such a young infant, and keeping the house going while caring for a fussy Amelia had clearly tired her out a little. Jean wasn’t really in a position to argue, and Amelia seemed much calmer in his arms than she’d been all afternoon.

Jean nodded, knowing he was capable of caring for the baby until she eventually drifted to sleep, and that he’d probably welcome a distraction from his usual liquid insomnia cure anyway.

“Thank you” she said softly, and gave him a short kiss for his efforts. She ran her hand down his cheek, and then down the baby’s back as well, and with a smile started turning towards the kitchen door.

“Sleep well” he replied, smiling at her as she retreated out of the kitchen. He followed her as far as the hallway and watched her go, gaze lingering on the place she had disappeared, and then he turned his attention back to Amelia. She had buried her hand in his beard, fascinated by the texture as her own father lacked one. Lucien jutted his chin closer to her, encouraging the touch, and perhaps revelling in it a little bit. He remembered Li doing the same thing when she was a little girl, and the memory didn’t bring the stab of pain he expected.

Li was a mother herself, safe in China with Mei Lin and her extended family, content in the knowledge that her long-absent father still loved her from across the ocean. They would never be close again, but they had at least mended their bridges, and it was a far cry from believing her dead for so long. He would take the blessings as they came. Still, looking at Amelia in her babyhood took him right back to those halcyon days in Singapore, and he rubbed her cheek with his scruff just to make her smile.

“Now” he said, walking slowly towards his consulting rooms, paperwork waiting. “Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into before bedtime”

It was only a couple of hours later when he saw Jean again. It was also, he noted, the early hours of morning. Amelia had dosed off at first but woke again a short time later, sooking for no good reason, and Lucien decided that yes, she must have started teething after all. He took her with him to the kitchen and fished the face washer out of the fridge, glad Jean had thought to put it in before bed, and it seemed to do the trick enough to quiet Amelia down; she sucked greedily on the cold, her fingers flexing in the fabric as she held it to her own mouth.

He walked back towards his office, bouncing Amelia just a little bit as he went, footfalls muffled by the rugs, keeping his voice soft so as not to carry upstairs.

“Now Miss Millie” he started, entering his consult room and heading towards the lab to the side. “What say you to mixing some dehydrate solutions?”

He had only just reached the door to the lab when he heard an equally soft voice behind him from the hall.

“Lucien, please don’t blow up our granddaughter”

He stopped and started, turning around to see a sleepy and dishevelled Jean wrapping her dressing gown a little tighter around herself as she walked forward. She was smiling at them, but he could see the glint in her eye that told him she knew how much trouble he could get into if left unsupervised, baby or not.

“Jean. What are you doing up? It’s two in the morning”

She stepped closer with one eyebrow raised meaningfully, a smirk almost on her face. “Babysitting” she replied. She came to him and held her hands out to take Amelia, who was again starting to blink as though sleep threatened to take her. He handed the baby over easily, watching Jean settle her on a hip with practiced ease, the two of them looking very sleepy.

“I hope we didn’t wake you” he said.

“I was sleeping lightly anyway” she said, shrugging. “I went to check on Amelia, saw her cot was empty. I knew you must have been getting up to some trouble this time of night”

He at least had the good grace to look sheepish.

“You should get some sleep Lucien” she added softly, looking at him with her head tilted to one side. It gave the distinct impression that she was scrutinising him and coming up with a thousand answers all at once, all of them correct, and he smiled in acknowledgement. He also couldn’t help but admire her, the easy way she cradled Amelia in her arms, unconsciously rubbing the baby’s back. He would always need more sleep and she would always be harassing him to do so, but rarely would she be demanding it with their granddaughter held between them. It made for a scene that was domestic in a different way, and he didn’t allow himself to linger too long on what-ifs and maybes. Their path was uniquely their own, and he could only be grateful that somewhere along the way two roads had converged into one and led them to this moment.

“I’m off to bed shortly” he said, giving her a gentle look that assured her he was listening; that he wouldn’t just turn around and head for his lab anyway. Now that he’d been interrupted his fatigued caught up to him anyway, and his head thrummed with the need to sleep.

“Goodnight” she said. She leaned towards him and he met her half way. The kiss was light and lingering. He watched her leave the room with a smile, certain he looked like a love-sick fool. He was a love-sick fool in many regards, so he didn’t mind it.

Amelia was peaking over Jean’s shoulder, her eyes one decent droop away from closing altogether. He waved at her, knowing full well she wasn’t old enough to wave back. Her eyes closed in response and stayed that way. He almost laughed, and then nodded in agreement, and rather than head towards his lab he walked out of his office, across the hall, and into his own room, closing the door very gently behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for the slight delay in delivering this chapter I made it a little longer for you all :) ENJOY!

_~0~_

Alice was slightly less alarmed to encounter the baby on her second visit, although seeing Matthew Lawson bouncing an infant on his good leg where he sat at the kitchen table was another sight entirely. Lucien had ushered her inside rather hurriedly before disappearing into his office, singing out for her to go make herself at home in the kitchen. And so she had, not expecting to see it already occupied.

It was a Saturday, so she assumed Charlie was out for the day. Jean was supposedly home, though her whereabouts were currently unknown. And then there was Matthew; the most unlikely of babysitters. Amelia was sucking happily on a cold rubber teething ring as he held her on his lap and read the paper, a pen in hand for the crossword.

“I would get up-” he said when he spotted Alice, indicating both the baby and his leg. She immediately waved him off with a generous smile, shaking her head to indicate he shouldn’t even pretend to make the gesture.

“No, please” she said.

He smiled in return, and for a moment she was rooted in place, not quite inside the kitchen but also not standing in the hallway. She found him disarming, not least because he always approached her with the same manner as he did Lucien; efficient, professional, and never like she was an idiot. Most men – certainly most men of a certain age and rank – didn’t even realise the disdain they directed to her. Thinly veiled comments or worse, insults they didn’t even know they were making. By now she was immune to their effects, but it still annoyed her that otherwise charming men couldn’t divorce her profession from her gender.

With Matthew there was none of that. If he was annoyed with her it was because of the work; if he was kind to her it was because he was a kind man and maybe even considered her a friend. At the very least they were colleagues who got along well. There was never a hint or a worry that his intentions were otherwise engaged or inappropriate, and she found that hard to deal with and confusing. Blatant sexism she could handle; polite indifference was another beast to battle.

Alice proceeded into the kitchen and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. She didn’t have a file with her this time; Lucien had called her over to hear the latest from his experiment room, and being she had no other Saturday plans, she had agreed to the visit gladly. She eyed Amelia again, distinctly aware that Matthew was watching her from the corner of his eye.

“Is she teething?” asked Alice.

“Apparently. Been sucking on this thing all morning” he replied, pointing with the pen in his hand to the ring in Amelia’s mouth.

“Yes, I’ve heard babies like the cold on their gums”

He only hummed in agreement and looked back down to his crossword. He wasn’t deliberately ignoring her, she knew, he was just engrossed, and perhaps not in the mood to talk. Any other time he was a generous conversationalist, not overly verbose but open to chatting with her about all manner of things. Today she was content to sit in the quiet and wait; it was then she noticed the wireless was turned on down low in the other room, a soft jazz record playing. It all felt rather… nice.

She noticed Matthew tap the pen a couple of times, a frown on his face.

“Would you like some help?”

He looked up as though he had forgotten she was even there, and then looked back to his crossword. He hesitated, not sure if he should take her up on her offer, but Lucien was taking his time cleaning up and gathering himself together back in the study, and anyway, it was obvious he had several blank spaces.

“Sixteen across, nine letters, the clue is ‘acceptance of others’”

“Tolerance” she answered immediately. That one seemed simple. He looked up, quirked his eyebrow in a way she couldn’t quite figure out, and then wrote in the word. If it was anyone other than Matthew she would think he set her up, but she trusted that he wouldn’t be so callous and so she let it be. He scanned the page again.

“Fifty across. Three lette- you know, these ones annoy me the most. You would think for three letters I would know the damn word”

She ignored his tone. “What’s the clue?”

“Electrified atom” he said, huffing.

“Ion” she replied, and smirked a little with pride but didn’t let it go to her head; it was just a crossword after all. And Matthew was a cop, not a scientist, there was no reason he should know such things, which was probably why he asked her in the first place. He was looking at her now in a way that seemed… conflicted. As though part of him wanted to be annoyed with her and her silly smirk, and another part wanted to keep asking her questions all day long. She felt strangely exposed under that look. Alice never did like being scrutinised.

“Alice, I do apologise”

Whatever mood had been between them was broken with Lucien’s arrival in the kitchen.

“Not at all” she said with a smile. “I was just helping Matthew here with his puzzles”

Lucien made a curious face that had a story behind it.

“I’m surprised he let you near it” he said, arching a brow at Matthew for his part to play.

Alice felt out of place; obviously something was going on with these two that she didn’t understand, and perhaps letting others interfere with his crossword was not Matthew’s usual way but after all, how else would he have got the word ‘ion’. Matthew just ignored the look, giving one back that dared them to challenge him. Alice thought it best to interfere before the boys got carried away.

“Did you get the results you were looking for?” she asked Lucien, conspiratorial and smiling, drawing him back to the point of her visit.

“No” he said, grinning. “Better”

“Oh?”

“I got completely unexpected and conflicting results that I can’t explain. I can’t wait to show you”

“I look forward to it”

They both started when Matthew groaned dramatically and stood from his seat. He had to use the table with one hand and hold the baby tightly with the other, but he managed it better than she’d seen from him lately, so that was a positive sign. She hated thinking he was invalid in any way, it seemed too sad. She stood too, and Lucien moved closer to Matthew’s side.

“If you two are going to sit here doing… science-y things… I’m going to go join Jean in the garden”

Matthew handed Amelia off to Lucien as he collected his newspaper and his cane. Lucien immediately handed Amelia over to Alice without a second thought, intent on helping his friend walk the short distance to the back door and then outside. Matthew tried to shake him off, but Lucien wasn’t having any of it, so the two of them made their way in a slow and limping fashion. Lucien was being extra cautious, noting that Matthew tended to cramp up after sitting so long, and there were a couple of half-steps and door jambs before the flat of the grass outside. He didn’t want Matthew to trip, so escorted him most of the way out to the sunroom, leaving Alice alone with the baby.

Alice knew enough to hold her without dropping her, but still she was dumbfounded to be standing in the Blake kitchen with an infant. Amelia was thankfully not crying, and had managed to hold on to her teething ring despite the jostling and her still-uncoordinated grip. In fact she was eyeing Alice with a look far too scrutinising for a child her age, almost as if she was deciding if she liked her or not, which Alice found oddly charming; she respected people who were a little more discerning about the company they kept. A moment passed, and the baby didn’t squawk. She just continued sucking on the teething ring, looking around the kitchen.

“You really do love that thing, don’t you?” asked Alice softly, settling the baby close on her hip the way she’d seen Jean do. It didn’t feel very natural, but she still felt better having her there than awkwardly held in front of herself.

After standing for a moment, Alice resumed her seat at the table and seated Amelia in front of her on the tabletop, holding under her arms to keep her steady. The teething ring dropped, landing on Alice’s lap, and she found she wasn’t as worried about the dribble on her dress as she might have expected to be. Amelia gave her a grin, exposing gums that looked speckled with bright pink and white; teeth very close to breaking, if she had to guess.

Alice picked up the teething ring and placed it back in the baby’s mouth just as Lucien walked back through the door. He had clearly forgotten that he gave Alice the baby, because he started at the sight of the two of them in front of him, and then failed to hide a smile.

He sat in the seat nearest Alice, and leaned forward to run his bearded cheek over Amelia’s; it was clearly a practiced game the two of them played. Amelia giggled at the contact and dropped the teething ring on Alice’s lap again, slapping her hands up and down against herself. Alice watched, intrigued and once again taken by Lucien’s gentle nature; he smiled and kissed the baby’s chubby cheek before pulling away, looking slightly sheepish for being so demonstrative in front of his friend. Alice smiled at him in response, and then at the giggling baby as she gave her back the teething ring, a little more confident in herself the longer they got along. The baby lurched forward, and Alice caught her under her arms and placed her firmly on her lap instead. Lucien was giving her a look, but she dutifully ignored it.

“Still no regrets?” he teased her, no bite in his words. It was obvious that Alice was not a natural, as much as she was capable. Truthfully she only took to Amelia because of the people they had in common and the relationships it afforded them both, and if not for those people Alice would have no reason to interact with the baby at all. She certainly had no delusions about her own lost opportunities.

“Not a one” she quipped back, even bouncing her knees a little to make Amelia gurgle. “But I have to admit… she is quite cute”

“I knew you’d come around” he said with a soft smile, bumping her shoulder with his own.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys, real life got the better of me. I still have a couple of chapter ideas to go, and I hope you enjoy this latest installment!

_~0~_

Christopher was absolutely dumbfounded. He expected Amelia to be well taken care of; after all, he left her in the care of his mother and three other competent adults. But to watch them move around each other in such an efficient and well-practice manner after a mere ten days all together – it astonished him, and frankly put the Army to shame. If only he could coordinate his unit the way this family could coordinate dinner preparation time.

Charlie put together the roast chicken complete with fresh herbs from the garden, dressed fetchingly in Jean’s floral apron as he chopped and arranged veggies in the roasting dish, which baffled Christopher to no end. Matthew held Amelia on his lap in the living room, waving the rattle and making her laugh around her teething ring, which seemed a far cry from the impression his mother gave of the serious policeman. Jean was busy clearing away the remnants of broken plates strewn across the kitchen table – _Lucien’s experiments_ , she said, as though that was any explanation at all – in such an unflustered way that Christopher had to question just how often Lucien Blake got into the crockery cupboard and destroyed things.

And as for Blake himself, well he was busy tidying up his lab so that, in his words, a prolonged reaction between two certain chemicals wouldn’t produce any noxious gases and poison them all where they ate. That last part alarmed Christopher to no end, and it had taken a good deal of convincing from his mother to reassure him Amelia had never once been in any danger of poisoning of any kind. (She wisely left out any mention of Amelia joining Lucien in the lab, figuring that was need-to-know information, and Christopher didn’t need to know).

“Charlie, pop another onion on that tray, Christopher likes them too” said Jean.

“Yes Mrs Bee” he replied, doing as she asked, cutting another onion into quarters and placing it around the bird in the tray. It occurred to Christopher that the shortened name might prove useful after the marriage, but he didn’t comment. There was too much organised chaos for him to really step in too far.

“Can I do anything?” he asked from his hiding place near the kitchen doorway.

“You can come help me pour a drink” said a voice behind him, and Christopher turned just as Lucien passed him down the hall and slapped his shoulder in a friendly gesture, heading towards the drinks cart in the dining room. Not one to argue, Christopher just nodded and followed.

Lucien poured a generous drink for each of them, knowing exactly what they’d all prefer, and only briefly paused to check with Christopher that he would also have a scotch. Christopher took his drink silently, and went ahead when Lucien gestured he do so, still feeling a little out of sorts by it all.

Once they gathered together their drinks, and one each for Matthew and Jean – Charlie had called out that he didn’t want one – they came back to the living room where everyone seemed to have gathered together now that the roast was on to cook. Christopher sat next to his mother on the big couch, Matthew on her other side still holding Amelia, while Lucien took the armchair near the window and Charlie sat in the one closest to the kitchen.

“How’s Ruby?” asked Jean.

“Tired, and getting a bit sick of the hospital room”

“I can imagine. Miserable place to be, really” she agreed, having a sip of her sherry. “Are you sure you don’t want me to bring Amelia down for the day?”

Christopher shook his head – they’d been through this over the phone.

“Ruby doesn’t want her around the hospital, with all the germs she might pick up. I’m just here to check in, and then I’ll head back to Melbourne after dinner”

Jean got a frown on her face at that, obviously unhappy that Christopher had made the trip for the sake of an afternoon visit.

“Are you sure?” she asked, touching his arm lightly. “You know, I don’t like you on that highway after dark, those hills near Bacchus Marsh can get so dangerous”

“I’ll be fine, Mum” he said, placing his free hand on top of hers. He didn’t remind her that as a near-thirty year old Army officer he was more than capable of driving for an hour at night on a highway; there was no point, and anyway, her subtle insistence that he stay the night was obviously borne of her want to have his visit go a little longer. But Christopher was only in Ballarat for a few hours, tasked by Ruby to go and check on Amelia. She was doing well, but the long days and separation anxiety had made her near-hysterical that Christopher should see for himself that Amelia was well. Christopher had tried pacifying her, but given the circumstances it was easier to come up for the afternoon, spend some time in the Blake house, cuddle his daughter, and then go back to Ruby.

As if sensing where his thoughts had gone, Matthew gestured that Jean take Amelia and transfer her over to her father’s knee. Noticing the movement, Lucien wordlessly held out his hand to take Christopher’s drink for him. It all seemed so… practiced.

Amelia came to him easily, calm in his arms as she usually was, as though she could sense this was where she should be. He had worried, when they learned Ruby was pregnant, that he would be like his own father; caring, but emotionally distant, almost cold. Christopher Senior had been a good farmer and a devoted family man, but he’d also been uncomfortable around extreme shows of emotion and certainly had no hands-on experience with babies. That was woman’s work, better left up to people whose hands weren’t calloused and grip too unpractised.

Christopher wanted more than that for his family; he wanted Amelia, and any other children they may have, to know his hugs were a safe harbour from any possible storm, and if he was quiet or moody it didn’t mean he didn’t still love her with every fibre of his being because he did. Not an overly sentimental man, Christopher knew at least that much about himself. He credited his mother for teaching him how; he could see now that she’d been right and he was rather like her in so many ways.

“You’re so good with her” said Jean. She was watching them both with a tender smile.

“She’s easy to be good with” he replied. He wasn’t ready yet to give himself too much credit.

“Watch yourself” said Matthew. “She’s started teething this week”

Christopher only grinned – a contained little expression that showed he was playing along but had nothing more to say. His mother already told him all the little tricks they’d been using to calm the baby as the teeth fought through. She’d even embarrassingly admitted that Lucien was sometimes the only one to calm her down at night, which Christopher found… oddly endearing.

The man in question was watching them all with an air like a grand patriarch, sipping his scotch and smiling very softly, watching over his dominion with a level of love Christopher could only hope to emulate in his own home, with his own family. Though he supposed Blake would soon be family too, and that seemed quite fine by him.

“Quite a bunch of babysitters we make, hey Doc?” said Charlie, a conspiratorial look on his face from his place in the other armchair.

Lucien chuckled a little to himself. “Quite”

 “Nonsense, it’s been perfectly ordinary” said Jean. She gave Christopher a conspiratorial smirk and he just grinned, not quite sure of them all but enjoying the atmosphere anyway.

“Well” said Lucien, smiling. “In any case, Miss Millie doesn’t seem to mind”

Christopher noted the nickname, but didn’t comment – he would ask his mother later if he remembered, and if not, well, it was one more charming thing to note about Amelia’s newest Grandfather. Jean only smiled at the comment, eyes lingering, and Christopher looked away.

His mother seemed so different these days from the woman she’d always been. He had an impression of her in his mind – stern and serious, loving but always practical. And sad. There was always a cloud of sadness around her in Christopher’s memories, like she was carrying grief around like a cross to bear. The sadness was gone now – she could sit still for more than a minute, and joke with him as an adult and not just as his parent. They were developing their own unique relationship as fellow parents, which he found lovely. And she was quicker to smile, and more relaxed, which he’d wanted to see for so long.

Certain that it wasn’t any one single thing to have brought the change, Christopher still landed a fair amount of credit at the feet of Lucien Blake, and liked the man all the more for it. They’d always got along, and Lucien extended his home out to Christopher (and Jack, he knew) without a moment of hesitation, and for that he earned Christopher’s respect. Blake was showing him another way to be, as he moved forward on his own path through adulthood – a fellow war-torn soldier who still managed to hold on to his humanity; a scientist who still found wonder in a baby’s smile.

Amelia had become a piece of the fabric in this house – her toys were strewn about on a knitted quilt his mother always had in the cupboard, her bottles were being sterilised on the kitchen sink, and she hadn’t cried in the arms of one person all afternoon.

Yes, Christopher was quite dumbfounded. Not least because he almost wanted to stay longer himself, just to bask in the homeliness of it all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired entirely by 5x05 and the full spectrum of Jean’s backstory. [Warning for any and all topics raised in said episode]. Enjoy.

_~0~_

The air was cool and the house very still when Amelia fussed in the middle of the night. Jean was already awake, staring at the ceiling, a million and one thought running through her mind and none of them lingering long enough to make sense.

She got up quickly, not wanting anyone else to be disturbed, and brought Amelia back to her room, closing the door softly behind her.

Considering that Christopher technically left Amelia in her care, Jean hadn’t spent much one-on-one time with her the past week. Between Lucien taking custody of an evening, and Matthew and Charlie coming and going of a morning, the middle of the day was the only time they were truly alone, and even then there were patients to attend with Lucien and shopping or errands to be done down the street. Amelia didn’t seem to mind; other than the teething she was a very relaxed baby, happy to be passed around to any sturdy pair of hands that wanted a hold.

Still, as much as she didn’t coddle children, Jean enjoyed having a private snuggle with Amelia, especially when she was sleepy and placid in the middle of the night, the two of them undisturbed by the rest of the house. She laid her on the bed next to her, placing a pillow on the other side so she wouldn’t roll off the edge, and then Jean settled on her side, her hand rubbing the baby’s tummy to keep her calm and help her get back to sleep.

These quiet moments reminded her of the boys when they were little, when everything had been new and overwhelming and she was just struggling to keep her head above water. Night time on the farm had been a reprieve from the chaos, when she could enjoy her babies; now, as a grandmother, the middle of the night felt relaxed and decadent. Not at all like they did thirty years ago.

Her mind revisited one of the many thoughts that had been plaguing her, and Jean sighed deeply.

She was getting so sick of purgatory.

Lucien had been especially attentive to Amelia tonight, free for once of any work responsibilities, and he had spent most of the evening on the floor with her, encouraging her tummy-time play and then reading to her from Blinky Bill on the couch, knowing she couldn’t understand it but not caring. He helped bath her in the kitchen sink, and sang her to sleep in the spare room, and if Jean wasn’t already irrevocably in love with him, then something about his softness – about the gentle humanity he showed her granddaughter – would have sealed the deal.

Jean took Amelia’s hand in hers, and kissed the tips of her little fingers, and felt the weight of her future laid out before her; she tried not to think about raising her own little girl, once upon a time in another life. She didn’t like to linger on lost possibilities or what-ifs. There was too much to be thankful for in the present, and too much time had passed, and anyway coveting something that could never be didn’t seem like a very healthy state of mind. So she didn’t linger.

But she was getting impatient in waiting for her love; impatient to let the rest of her life start anew. She wasn’t nineteen and naive now, and she would do things the proper way. But her love was profound, and each day it bubbled closer to the surface.

It wasn’t fair to either man to draw comparisons, but some nights – like tonight, her mind too awake – she could recognise the differences in herself; her first marriage was safe and boring in the best ways, and some days she did long for that again. But this upcoming marriage, with this man, would be an adventure every day, and it frightened her and exhilarated her in equal measure. It was… _bigger_ , somehow; bold like fireworks. She wanted so much for Amelia to find fireworks in her life, and to never settle for less.

Jean learned to love Christopher. She was so young when they married, and nervous about the future, but every day she woke with a promise to herself to stay dedicated to the life she was given. She had fallen for that handsome boy at school and they promised each other so many things, and he loved her so much that she knew they could make a happy life together. They had to, because good Catholic girls did that sort of thing; they got married young and had babies and stood by their families even as the burning for something _more_ simmered under the skin. Good Catholic girls confessed their coveting for a grander life and repented every Sunday, and come morning they re-promised themselves to this lot and thanked the Lord for His blessings.

She learned to love Christopher the way others learn to love the weather in a new country. Never quite the same, but nice in its own way, with its own set of challenges and rewards. And before long, with young children and a farm to run, she didn’t have to try to love their life together. The days of feeling trapped and wing-clipped became fewer and farther between (though when they did hit it was like a tornado, stirring up every feeling of resentment and anger inside her, and she spent a good deal of time praying for guidance). Her boys all needed her, and she answered their call, and didn’t think too long on other lives she might have lived; as a flight attendant, a wartime nurse, a legal secretary in the city, the wife of a diplomat stationed in Europe or Asia or even somewhere daunting like Africa. She had her books for that sort of thing, and she learned to love Christopher and this life they fell into as young and reckless teenagers.

Looking at Amelia in her infancy, Jean could see every ounce and inch of potential in her future, and her heart soared.

“You can be so many things” she whispered into her downy baby hair. “You can be anything you want”

She thought of Mattie, living in London and dating a young medical student she met there; Mattie, who looked her father in the eye and told him she wasn’t going to live the life he had laid down for her no matter how much it hurt. She thought of Li, equally defined by her circumstances as Jean had been, forging her own path with steely courage to build a life from the wreckage of relative abandonment. She thought of Rose, feisty and combative, who probably annoyed more people than was wise but who always did it on her own terms, and who knew herself well enough to wait for the quiet life. Jean thought of Tillie Robinson and Elizabeth Chapman and all the girls of Ballarat who had so many options ahead of them, each one more terrifying and exciting than the last.

She knew times were changing fast outside their town; Ballarat was a bubble of old-world country life, the way so many towns were, but there was a simmer of change about to burst forward and these girls were on the cusp of it. Young Amelia would see the most of it. Jean envied her a little, but mostly she was so excited to get to see her grow up.

“I’m going to tell you something your Grandpa Lucien once said to me” said Jean. The sound of her voice was lulling Amelia towards sleep, her eyes drooping. “And I’m going to keep telling you this as you grow up”

Jean resumed rubbing Amelia’s belly, and took a deep breath.

“Find that one thing you want in life, and go for that one thing”

She smiled at the memory, bittersweet though it was. If only she had known then what was to happen. If only she had known he was right; that their moment in the garden was the beginning of her being ready, and that she would decide in her heart that _he_ was her one thing, and she would go for that one thing and never let go, not for anyone. Not even for God. Suddenly the thought that was plaguing her came full circle, and the problem standing before her felt like no problem at all.

“No matter how big your dreams are, I promise… you can make them happen”

Amelia’s eyes dropped closed and stayed that way.

“And we’ll be standing right behind you every step of the journey”

Jean waited a moment, and then gently stood from her bed and picked up Amelia. She didn’t stir, and Jean walked her back to her room with soft footfalls and her heart bursting with love. Placing her in the cot, Jean let her hand rest a moment on her chest, feeling her tiny breaths go in and out.

“You are so very loved, baby girl” she whispered, smiling with pride.

When she went back to bed, her mind was calmer and her problems seemed easier to deal with, and before long sleep took over like a calm washing away the day. All the potential and the excitement for the future sat firmly in her heart and it felt wonderful.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the interest of keeping this story fun and light I’m eschewing any speculation or possible angsty storylines. Consider this story as sitting somewhere in an undefined near-future suspended from canon.   
> The penultimate chapter; a little shorter than usual, but I felt I had to feature these guys just once before we wrap up. As always, ENJOY!

_~0~_

Charlie had never really been around babies. He remembered a little bit of his youngest brother’s babyhood, but he’d been a child himself at the time and before long all three boys were old enough to play outside together. There weren’t many cousins nearby, or even friends with young children. Somehow the Davis brothers ended up amongst the youngest of their cohort, and so for all his domestic capabilities Charlie hadn’t been around babies very much.

He did, however, take to childcare like a duck to water, much to the amusement of Rose. Although initially suspicious of his willingness to help around the house, Jean had accepted Charlie’s efforts to win her over with cooking duty, and so she wasn’t surprised when Charlie volunteered himself as babysitter on one of the last days of Amelia’s care. Lucien and Matthew were tied up with a case, and the grocery shopping needed doing after Lucien requisitioned yet another roast for crime solving, so when it was evident Charlie and Rose were merely hanging around the house in each other’s company, she tasked them both with double duty and set off down the street before they could really lodge any kind of serious complaint.

Ruby was going well in the city; as well as could be expected, and certainly better than she had been in Adelaide. The specialists were hopeful she wouldn’t need to stay much longer and soon she could be discharged back home to Adelaide for care. As such, the Blake household was on alert for the end date to their babysitting duties. It was… oddly sad to think about. Amelia’s visit was always going to be short-term, but they adjusted so well to having a baby around that the thought of losing her had made everyone a little melancholy. Lucien especially, who was stealing cuddles at every available opportunity.

Jean handed Charlie the baby with practiced ease, and he held her firmly, if a little awkwardly. It wasn’t the same brand of discomfort as Alice; it was just a lack of practice. When he looked Rose, a question on his mind if she’d like to hold Amelia, she threw her hands up and shook her head.

“You’re on your own” she said, grinning at him. It seemed to answer a lot of questions all at once, which made him smile.

“There’s formula on the sink if she gets fussy, and some stewed apple in the fridge if that’s not enough” said Jean, fussing about the kitchen and watching the three of them make their way to the living room to sit together on the couch.

“Thanks Mrs Bee” said Charlie, smiling as he settled Amelia on his lap. “I’m sure we’ll be okay”

“It is just a couple of hours. I’m only running errands down the street”

“Exactly” answered Charlie pointedly and with a smile. Jean seemed to get the hint and smiled to herself, looking rather bashful.

“Alright, well… I’ll see you shortly”

“See you then” he called out, grinning as she spun around and disappeared down the hall towards the front door.

Rose was looking at Amelia intently, unmoving, the two of the holding eyes like they were in a staring competition.

“I have no idea what I’m doing” said Rose, never looking away. Charlie could only laugh at her, which caused Amelia to jerk her gaze away to look at him.

“Ha! I won!” she said, pointing her finger in the baby’s face. “You looked away first”

Charlie only shook his head at her, bemused and kind of endeared. “She can’t understand you”

Rose rolled her eyes at him. “Well _obviously_ ”

She sat back, watching Charlie as he placed the baby on his knee and then bounced just a little, making her gurgle in a rhythm all her own. Her fist went in her mouth, drool all over, and Charlie took her bib and wiped it away.

“Babies drool a lot” said Rose. She wasn’t disgusted, rather she was intrigued. So many of her friends and peers seemed baby-mad; eager to settle down and have a family, as though the world would end if they didn’t have a ring on their finger and three kids by the age of thirty. She found it all rather absurd, and was scorned for saying so, but there was just so much… everything… always coming out of Amelia, that she couldn’t imagine a world where she would _want_ that for herself. Not now, not yet.

“She’s been teething” said Charlie.

“And that causes more drool?”

He gave her a look that begged her not to tease him or be deliberately obtuse, which was one of her favourite pass times with him. She just grinned in reply, and then leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“You handle drool very well” she said, and laughed at him when he gave her a pained look.

“Are you sure you don’t want a hold?” he asked, Amelia had taken her bib and shoved that in her mouth too, which served the dual purpose of mopping up the drool and providing her with a new and different texture to suck on, though Charlie suspected he’d need to fish the teething ring from the fridge soon.

“You seem to be handling things okay without me” said Rose. She looked wary, maybe even hesitant to be seen with a baby in hand. “And besides, apparently I’m supposed to want that kind of thing. If I hold her I might lose all interest in my career, and then my articles in progress will never get finished for Monday’s edition”

Charlie gave her a soft look, full of understanding. They were careful – the both of them equally concerned about it, if he’s honest – but there was always that _what if_ possibility borne of too many friends who got careless and ended up in a church prematurely. Not that he and Rose weren’t steady but… they weren’t ready for that yet. And anyway, neither seemed willing to give up their career path to take a detour down the aisle. He knew that about her, and he respected it. In fact, her ambition, when focused in the right direction, was something he admired about Rose.

“There’s nobody here but me” he said, voice low. “And I certainly won’t judge you”

Rose looked at him then, properly, and seemed a little more at ease with what she found there. Understanding, and no sense of persuasion.

“Alright then” she said, nodding at him, her chin set firm. She held her hands out.

Charlie chuckled. He put the baby on her lap, sitting, and made sure Rose had a grip around her back before he let go. Amelia barely noticed a thing, but looked up at her new minder with a curious look on her face.

“Hi there” said Rose, her voice gentle but not coo-ey.

“She likes you” said Charlie, smiling at them both.

“Well… I don’t mind her either”

She still wasn’t comfortable. The baby smelled of talcum powder and milk, and she was more fragile than Rose was comfortable with even though her baby chub felt solid in her hands, and with her tooth situation she was liable to burst into tears at any given moment. Still… Rose held her and didn’t break her. And that was a positive start.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Thanks for coming on this little ride with us, it’s been a blast to share this ditty, and to my fellow collaborators, you guys are awesome and I hope I did it justice!   
> This is pure fluff. As always, let me know what you think, and ENJOY!

 

_~0~_

The early hours of morning had come to be their time; just the two of them sitting in his office while he settled Amelia back to sleep, desperately willing his insomnia to leave him alone for a few hours. He loved these times, when the house was totally quiet and everyone was asleep. Tonight he was feeling especially melancholic – it was the kind of mood that would bring on troubling dreams; not quite violent enough to cause him to wake the house, but just disturbing enough to rouse him from sleep. Spending time with a weary baby in his arms kept those dreams at bay a little longer, and he cherished it.

Tonight was especially poignant; it was Amelia’s last night alone with them. Ruby was being discharged tomorrow and she and Christopher were planning to stay one night in Ballarat before taking their little family home to Adelaide.

Lucien was hardest effected, naturally, and wasn’t afraid to show it.

He had forgotten, in his lifetime of grief, how lovely it was to actively parent. With Li he had been hands-on but often absent; work always took a precedent, as it did for so many men of his age and generation. He was present for the fun stuff – the family holidays or the bedtime stories. But the day-to-day was so often left to Mei Lin and their nanny. He forgot just how much work babies were, but also how much joy they could bring. Tiny little people still being formed by the world, as yet untouched by its cruelties and injustices. Just spending time with Amelia made all the pain of yesteryear feel easier to carry.

“I’m going to miss you, Miss Millie” he said to her quietly, smiling as her fingers slipped uncoordinated into his mouth. She was still fascinated by his beard, and grabbed it whenever she was held close enough to get a grip. He took her fingers gently between his teeth and chomped on them dramatically, making noises that brought a giant smile to her face. On her bottom gum, right in front, the tip top of her first tooth was coming through the surface of the skin, white against an otherwise pink grin.

The baby liked the sound of his voice, he thought, and even at her fussiest she could be calmed down if he just spoke for long enough. So far he had talked her through every one of his patient files for the day and sung her a Chinese lullaby that Li loved, the words dredged up from the back of his memory. But still she wouldn’t settle; tonight was a fussy night, her gums aching the closer her teeth got to breaking, and he brought her downstairs to avoid waking Jean.

Come tomorrow everything would be different – nights would go back to being quiet and lonely affairs, their days would no longer be dictated around the organised chaos of a baby’s schedule, and the house would remain perfectly spotless, devoid of any rattles or bibs or teething rings around the place. It was always going to be that way and yet still the sadness took him over, and he cuddled Millie close where she sat against his chest, the two of them reclined in his office chair.

He and Jean made a good pair, he thought, with the help of their little village of friends and family. They would have run a wonderful home, in another life that he rarely (if ever) let himself think about. This dysfunctional family had found their rhythm with one another, and Amelia – for all she was a new and impermanent fixture – had fit right into their mould. Not having her around would be like losing a limb, and he wondered how Jean would cope with him being her shadow for a time, seeking out her company as comfort. Of course, he sought out her company anyway, because he adored her, but he could already feel his neediness building and Amelia hadn’t even left yet, so Jean would undoubtedly have to extricate him from her side in due course.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he said, voicing his ponderings out loud in the hopes of getting Amelia to fall back asleep. The baby looked at him, and he shifted her to lay in the crook of his elbow, tucked up all safe. “Yes, I think that would be alright. You won’t tell anyone else”

He stood, and started slowly pacing around the surgery, swaying as he walked, the movement always calming. The door was almost completely closed to muffle the sounds, and only one lamp sat on in the corner, leaving a distinct feeling of night time over the place. It was positively serene.

“I don’t think anyone here truly comprehends just how much I love your Grandma Jean” he said. He kissed Millie’s forehead. Her eyes were starting to blink slower and heavier.

“Some people think we’re together because we live together and it’s convenient” he said. He knew the rumours that had abounded for years; the persistent negativity the dogged them just because they happened to be near the same age and under the one roof. Just because a romance had eventuated didn’t mean his hackles weren’t raised in Jean’s defence.

“Some people say unkind things about Jean” he said. “A lot of people say unkind things about me”

He huffed at himself. So many unkind things. He fished a dummy off his desk and put it in Amelia’s mouth, sensing she was only a few moments from sleep. Sure enough, she started suckling almost immediately, and her eyes got heavier still.

“But I want to share something with you, Miss Millie” he said. He continued his pacing, softly patting her bum as he went. “I love your Grandma Jean all the way to the Milky Way and back again”

Her hand came up and hit him in the jaw softly, then fell back against her body, uncoordinated.

“Past the moon and all the stars, beyond the universe”

She gurgled around her dummy, obviously fighting sleep in any way she could, trying to keep herself awake with sound and movement, the battle almost lost. She lifted her eyes to look at him and Lucien smiled, the look on her face caught between consternation and interest.

“Yes, I know, it’s true. You can look at me like that all you like, but I’ll tell you something, your Grandma is the most amazing person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing”

The baby’s eyes blinked closed, almost stayed that way, opened again, and then closed once more for good. He kept walking and bouncing, enjoying her weight in his arms.

“She is kind, exceedingly generous. She is forgiving, Lord knows she is, or else why would she be with me?”

The baby sighed in his arms, one last act before she drifted off for good, and Lucien kissed her brow as he kept walking, this time for his own comfort.

“She’s so clever too. I think one day you might be just as clever”

The stillness of night settled over him, the last person in the house to be awake, and he walked a few more paces and made sure to take note of everything – the smell of the room and of Millie’s soft baby hair, the temperature (middle-of-the-night cold, but not freezing the way Ballarat was prone to be), the sound of his footfalls as he walked the room, the exact brightness of the soft yellow lamp in the corner and the way it played shadows on the walls.

So many of his memories were fragments of the whole; if he had known when he was younger, before the heartache set in, to cherish instants like this, he would have taken far more rigorous notes and never taken for granted that it could be gone in an instant. If he had known back then that lazy days with his wife and daughter would be taken away forever, he would have hidden them away from the world and spent every waking minute making memories to treasure. But he was older and wiser now, and so he committed every tiny detail to memory to savour and relish for the rest of his life. His second grandchild; the next generation, and namesake of his beloved future-wife. His heart swelled with the heat of gratitude, that for all the pain he had landed here, in this exact moment, with all the promise of the future nestled safely asleep in his arms.

“I love your Grandma Jean so much” he said, his voice cracking with the emotion. “And I love our family. And I love you, Miss Millie. So very much”

He landed his lips softly on her head, closed his eyes, and breathed in. When he pulled away he ran the pad of his finger gently down her cheek, and she didn’t stir which made him smile.

“I’m the luckiest man alive” he whispered.

As though sensing it, he turned to see if someone was standing at the door, and sure enough there in the gap was Jean, her shoulder resting on the door jam and a look on her face like she was close to tears. He wasn’t sure what she overheard, but it was enough.

“We’re lucky to have you too, Lucien” she said softly, and pushed herself off the doorway to walk towards him.  

He smiled at her in that way that made her knees weak; in that way that conveyed without a shadow of a doubt that he was madly in love with her. He was a vision that pulled at very particular heartstrings, standing there in the dim light with her granddaughter in his arms asleep, talking about how deeply he was in love with their life. In love with her. She stopped right in front of him, a smile on her face. Her hands came up to cup his elbows, a gesture like she was helping him hold the baby, and she stood taller, the two of them leaning in to share a soft kiss over the top of Amelia’s head. His eyes stayed closed when they broke, their foreheads staying together for just a moment, and one of her hands raised up to cup his cheek, stroking his beard softly.

He opened his eyes to her touch, smiling at her with open reverence.

 “I think she’s asleep now” whispered Jean, her gaze flicking over his face as though making her very own special memory.

“I suppose I should go put her down” he whispered back. Jean gave him a look of understanding.

“We’ll be sure to invite her back for a visit again soon” said Jean, knowing that he was already mourning the loss of his cuddles. “Easter isn’t so far away”

“Egg hunt?”

She huffed at him, holding back her laughter so as not to disturb Amelia, eyes shining. “If you like”

“Marvellous”

She grinned at him, and then nudged his arm just a little to get him moving towards the door. He led the way, Jean falling just a half-step behind his shoulder, following him upstairs to Amelia’s room. He placed her gently in her cot and they waited a breath or two to see if she would rouse. She didn’t, dead to the world, and her dummy fell out of her mouth in sleep. He took it and placed it off to the side of her head, and they smiled before tip-toeing out of the room again. He pulled the door behind him, leaving it ajar the way Jean liked, and then turned to face her where she stood in the hallway.

This was their goodnight; she would retreat to her room across the hall and he would proceed downstairs. Not for much longer, but for now that’s the way it was. He stepped up to her in her space, and she watched him with a defiant glint in her eye, not stepping back, her head tilted to be able to look up at him. He smiled and placed his hands on her arms, stroking up to her shoulders and back down to her elbows.

She leaned in and kissed him, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that tried to say so much. He returned it, and his hands slid slowly around her back to hold her in place at her shoulder blades, encasing her in the circle of his arms as her own came around his waist to rest against his back.

They broke their kiss but didn’t move away from one another, and she leaned into him demanding a hug which he was all too happy to provide, pulling her firm against his chest and clutching her there. They held on to one another tightly, unmoving, and the swell of gratitude built up in his chest again as he took stock of this moment and realised this was his future. For the rest of their lives they could be like this; surrounded by family, wrapped in one another, and looking forward to future visits from tiny babies whom he adored.

“I love you” he whispered, tucking his nose in her bed hair, his eyes closing.

“I love you too, Lucien. So much” she said. She turned her head to nose at his neck, placed a quick kiss against his chest, and then reluctantly pulled away, her hands lingering on him even as she initiated their break. He never wanted to let her go, but it was the middle of the night and they both needed their sleep.

“Goodnight, Jean” he said, watching her step towards her room.

“Goodnight” she replied. She stood at the doorway and watched as he reluctantly turned around and headed downstairs, turning once to look at her with a smile from the stairwell, before he disappeared for the night.

She went to bed feeling, not for the first time, that she had to count her blessings and count them again, just to be sure they were truly as numerous and wonderful as they seemed. It felt dream-like, some days, to measure her life and see that it was so rich and so full of all the love a person could want. They had their trials – everybody did – but somehow the road had led her here, and she was overcome with the need to hold it tightly, no matter the hardships or challenges living with Lucien Blake brought.

And as for the man himself, he slept soundly that night, a sense of rare peace filling him from his hair to his toes. He had a family once more; different from before, and adopted in many ways with their house full of misfits, but they were all a family nonetheless. Jean’s sons had accepted him into the fold and Christopher trusted him with his daughter, which brought Lucien no small amount of pride. His own child and first grandchild were safe and happy with Mei Lin, and even if he longed to be able to see them in person it was more than he thought possible only a couple of short years ago, and he could accept it. And soon Jean would be his wife. That thought alone was enough to bring a smile to his face, unbridled joy in his heart. He slept soundly that night and dreamed only of Easter Egg Hunts and the sound of children laughing.


End file.
